The Raven Prince
by Cahaya Nightdreamer
Summary: What if Raven had a son? And a son by the man that she despised the most? The result is the Raven Prince… (First try at this, might make tweaks and edits to this later on, but got inspired - a bit - by eophipus' story. If you haven't read their stories, READ IT).


Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Sherlock.

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**AN: An idea slipped into my head, and when it does, I just write it down…and ****tada! Hope you enjoy! Reread it while listening to 'My Heart Goes On', by Celine Dion…One-shot…possibly. **

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It had been a secret at first. No one had known. It had been kept silent amongst the Titans for years, and nothing ever got out.

All of it, however, had started between Raven and Slade.

After the Teen Titans had defeated Slade and Trigon, they had more or less went back to their normal lifestyles: arguing about breakfast (_"I'm a _vegetarian!_ This is inedible!" "At least it's better than the tofu that _you_ make!"_), Starfire dragging Raven around on 'girls only' date - or at least, trying to (_"No, Star." "But, friend Raven-!"_), and Robin leading the Titans to fighting all sorts of new and interesting villains each day (_"Titans GO!"_).

At least, that's what all of them had thought.

They had embraced it completely, and Raven had been a positive turnout in this event. Although she was still the same dark and moody empath, she was more open to her feelings now, displaying more of them than her usual dark manner.

Then, a few days before Raven's birthday, Slade appeared.

Robin went on another rampage, trying to search for clues on _how_ Slade managed to stay alive, while the other Titans tried to keep his maniac obsession to a minimum. It had worked, of course, courtesy of Starfire, until Slade got Raven.

The move was completely unexpected, and she had been stolen in the night.

After a month, they found her, barely breathing.

And then, they were even more enraged when they learnt about the hospital report.

Raven had been raped.

And not just by anyone, but by _Slade_.

This sent _all_ of the Titans, Titans East, the Teen Titans, honorary Titans, all scouring the globe for Slade. It took a while to locate him, but finally, Aqualad located him at the bottom of the ocean, called for backup, and the Titans all gave Slade what he deserved.

Then, after 4 months, the secret travelled around to the other Titans, besides the ones in Jump City. It was kept hush hush from the news, but it still counted.

Raven was pregnant.

And with _Slade's_ child.

None of them, of course, had any wish to kill an innocent being, and so, on January 6th, Raven bore a boy, a healthy one, with glasz coloured eyes that changed colour every minute (Raven supposed that that was Slade's eyes, as she had never been there when the Titans had given Slade all they had and they were not her own), and thick light curls for his age.

His skin was pale, like his mother's, with high cheekbones. He had smiled innocently at the Titans and they had all melted at the smile.

That day, Raven made the hardest decision of her life.

She let him go.

The baby, so named Sherlock, had been dropped off at a doorstep of a particularly loving family with an older son by seven years, named oddly as well: Mycroft.

The Teen Titans kept their distance as Raven walked slowly over to the doorstep, knowing that she needed her privacy. Raven pressed a kiss to the curls which had darkened since his birth of the 10-day-old child, inhaled his scent one last time, and set him down gently on the doorstep.

Sherlock tried to grab at her, clearly not understanding what was happening. "Goodbye, my raven." Raven murmured under her breath as she turned and walked away, Star immediately offering her arms out in a sympathetic hug as Raven transported them back, sobbing silently into Starfire's arms the whole time. The child started crying even before they left, screaming and trying to get out of the bundle of blankets.

Raven's heart broke, but she stayed stoic, taking only one last glance of the boy before disappearing.

The door opened at that moment, with Violet Holmes looking around, her eyes widening in distress at the child, all bundled up, and crying.

She looked at the note.

_His name is Sherlock. Please. Take good care of him._

And so she did.

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Nearly 32 years passed since that incident.

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"Mom!" Starfire and Robin's daughter pointed out at some criminal getting away. "C'mon!" She gestured to the younger generation of the Teen Titans, who were having their annual get-together. That included Titans East as well, except for Aqualad, who died buying Titans East enough time to get away from a maniac bomber.

"Wait. Who's _that_?!" Cyborg's son pointed out two figures running after the criminal. One was short and blonde, following after a taller figure, who was much more noticeable.

The taller one had dark curls bouncing about on high cheekbones, and marble-like skin, pale. His eyes were gleaming as he ran after the criminal, his long legs covering the distance easily. He was wearing a Belstaff coat with a blue scarf wrapped around his neck, and underneath that, he was wearing a suit.

"C'mon John, we're losing him!" The taller one called over his shoulder at his shorter friend. The shorter one was having trouble keeping up, but he hastened his pace.

A familiar aura surged through Raven, and her heart froze.

_No_.

"Rae?" Robin asked, turning to his former second-in-command, noticing something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

And then, the explanation came out in itself. From the blonde man.

"Not everyone is as tall as you, Sherlock!"

Everyone didn't move. The name was odd, and stood out. And no one needed the name to easily make the resemblance of the pale skin, the arched eyebrows, the sharp nose.

The two ran by the table that the Titans were sitting in, knocking over food, before Sherlock dived down and tackled the criminal to the floor gracefully.

He put on a pair of handcuffs on the criminal, and the blonde one stopped. "You know, Sherlock," He said, panting. "We should have called Greg."

"Who?" Sherlock turned to him.

"You know, Lestrade."

Sherlock snorted. "Oh, Gavin." He said, ignoring John's protest of _"It's _Greg_." _and snorting once more. "Please. Much quicker and more efficient this way."

John turned to where the Titans were sitting, and smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the table as he walked towards where the Titans were sitting. "Sorry about that."

Robin was the first to recover. "Um, no, it's fine. We're used to it." John smiled at that, before holding out a hand.

"John Watson."

"British?" Robin asked, shaking his hand. "And Robin."

John raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "And this," He said, pointing at Sherlock, who was now calling someone on his phone, "Is Sherlock Holmes."

Raven felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her.

Sherlock joined John. "Consulting Detective."

"Sorry, what?"

"Consulting Detective." He said in that silky baritone of his, posh and accented. "Don't bother looking for it. I made up the profession myself."

"Why?" Beast Boy asked, confused. "And _what_ do you do?"

"It means that when the police are out of their depths, which is _always_," Raven couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that; after all, the Teen Titans had handled problems beyond the local forces' abilities, "They consult _me_."

And then he was frowning, and tilting his head. "Do I know you?" His eyes were fixed on Raven. Raven felt extremely self-conscious, but examined Sherlock while she could, in return. His long and slender fingers were tapping out some sort of tune on his thigh, not stopping at all. Pale skin. Plump lips. Angular features. High cheekbones. Curls as dark as a raven's wing. With his mysterious aura and dark coat that swirled around him as he walked, he looked just like a human version of a story that her mother had read to her when she was younger: The Raven Price. She wanted to laugh at the irony.

In all, he was an attractive man, but in an odd way.

Raven swallowed, looking around, before looking back down at her hands. Sherlock had made it this far without knowing who his parents were. If she told him, she could ruin the whole thing. But she so badly wanted to tell him. But his life was at risk here. But this was her last chance. The internal debate went on in her head, before she made a decision.

So, she lifted her head, stared into the glasz eyes that she knew would haunt her nightmares yet bring her the sweetest of dreams, and shook her head to Sherlock. To the Raven Prince. "I'm sorry, but no."


End file.
